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“Hey, Cas?” Sam asked from his seat at the library table.
Cas, sitting across from him, looked up from his phone. “Yes?”
“So I’ve been, um, practicing my Enochian, and, ah…” He trailed off.
Cas stared, waiting for Sam to continue.
“…I was using the x-ray of Dean’s ribs that we have... To practice.”
Sam thought he saw something twitch in Cas’s expression, but if he did it was gone in an instant.
Sam continued, “I know that the Enochian language can be a bit… dramatic…”
“It's the language of the Lord, Sam.”
“Right! Right. I know... It’s just…" He inhaled sharply though his nose. "Okay, first of all," he waved a hand over his ribcage, "is the warding on my ribs the same as Dean’s?”
“No,” Cas answered. His expression remained blank, unreadable.
“Okay, good,” a quick smile, “good, so then…” Sam’s eyes flicked away and back. “So then, did you intend Dean’s warding to be so... um… possessive?”
Castiel stared.
He leaned back in his chair. His head tilted back, and he looked down at Sam.
“If you have translated it correctly,” his eyes narrowed slightly, “then I think we both know the answer to that question.”
They held each other’s gaze.
Sam’s adams-apple worked up and down.
“I should— find something else to translate—”
“Yes, that would be a good idea, Sam.”
“Okay—” Sam leap from his chair like it was covered in thumbtacks, and did his best not to sprint.
Dean entered the library as he rushed out. Dean raised an eyebrow. “What’s with him?” he asked Cas.
Cas just smirked. “He had a run-in with the Angel of Fire."